


Keeping You

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: Anywhere [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Backstory, But only by the loosest of defintions, Feels, M/M, Pre-Series, These boys were so ridiculously attached to each other SO FAST, all the feels, technically pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: Finding each other was one thing. Figuring out how to hold onto each other, though… well, that was a little more complicated.(Pre-series, set after the flashbacks in 2X12 but compliant to the season 2 finale.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You cannot convince me that Jack “semi-fired from the CIA/rules are more like guidelines” Dalton was James “RoboSpy” MacGyver’s first choice for Mac’s partner (or second choice, or even third). It’s clear onscreen that James has zero understanding of human emotion, especially his son’s, and on paper Jack is exactly the kind of wildcard someone like James would loathe working with. (I suspect it was Matty’s fault that Jack was even on the list in the first place).
> 
> We know that Mac and Jack worked together in the army anywhere from six months to a year, and the time covered in the 2X12 flashbacks was only two months. If James had been happy with the partnership - no matter what he implied to Mac - I imagine he would have snapped them up for his super-secret-spy-foundation much faster. So, in the space between the 2X12 flashbacks and this fic, I imagine him back in L.A. crossing his fingers and hoping like hell these two would wander away from each other so he could try to match Mac with a more suitable candidate. 
> 
> We all know how well that worked out for him. :)

By this point, Mac was almost used to the chorus of welcome that seemed to hit every time they walked through the base’s dining hall. Mac had always been the kind of person who could count his friends on one hand – and sometimes didn’t need all five fingers – but Jack had a gift for making people like him. He wouldn’t have believed it, back when they’d first met, but ever since Jack had signed up for the extra tour it was out in full force. The anger he’d been hauling around before had faded, and with that had come a corresponding surge of charm that could alternate between “one of the guys” and “Texas gentleman” at the drop of a hat. Even the EOD techs who used to complain the most about Jack would now smile and wave every time he walked by.

Still, no matter how big the welcome was, Jack would always guide them to a slightly emptier section of table that gave them some space to themselves. “Listen, I’ll accept you choosing the chicken sandwich over the burger,” Jack said as they set their trays down, continuing the discussion they’d started in line as if it had never paused. “But how could you choose a salad over _fries_? I’d understand if they were old – those can get so limp you can get a pretty good slap fight going – but these are _fresh_.” He waved one at Mac for emphasis. “Look at it. How can you say no to that?”

Mac couldn’t have stopped his lips from curving upward if he’d wanted to. “Because I like my arteries to be fully functional, thank you.”

“It’s not all about health, Mac. Sometimes life is about _joy_.” Jack took a deliberate bite of the fry, chewing it for a moment before tilting his head in acknowledgement. “Alright, so they’re not the best fries I’ve ever eaten. But the point still stands.”

Amusement a warm spot in his chest, Mac shot Jack an “I’m humoring you” look. “What if I agree to get ice cream? Is that experiencing enough ‘joy’ in my life?”

“Only if you get a real flavor this time,” Jack said, leaning forward. “Vanilla’s only acceptable if you cover it in toppings. Plain it’s just a blank piece of paper.”

“That tastes like _ice cream_ ,” Mac countered. “And not only _is_ vanilla a real flavor, it’s one of the most popular ones in the U.S.”

“Only because it’s so dull no one can argue against it.” Jack shook his head, eating another fry. “If it’s vanilla or nothing, of course you’ll eat vanilla. But there’s a whole _world_ of flavors out there.”

Mac raised an eyebrow at him. “If this is another pitch to get me to try rum raisin ice cream, the answer is still no.”

Jack gave him an exasperated look. “Fine, not rum raisin, though I still say you’re missing out. But when you finish your tour next week and go home, just promise me you’ll go to your nearest Baskin Robbins or wherever and order one weird sounding thing off the menu. Just one, but that friend of yours – Bozer – has to agree that it’s weird.”

Mac’s chest clenched, and he looked back down at his tray. “Actually, you’ll make it home before I will.” He took a bite of his salad, mostly as an excuse not to say anything for a little while.

“What?” He could practically _hear_ the frown in Jack’s voice. “I thought they were trying to talk you into that teaching gig over at Fort Irwin. Did somebody shoot that down without telling you?” When Mack lifted his head, Jack’s expression was thunderous. “If I have to go talk to some people….”

Damn it, he didn’t realize _that_ was the direction Jack was going to go with this. “No, nobody shot it down,” he said quickly, wanting to stop Jack from getting himself in trouble for no reason. _He_ was the one who hadn’t been interested, no matter how hard he’d tried to convince himself it would be a logical move. “I signed up for another tour.”

Jack froze at that, absolute shock rippling over his face. That threw Mac, more than any of the responses he’d actually been expecting. Jack had been the one to do this in the first place – it couldn’t be that much of a surprise Mac had decided to follow his lead, could it?

A second later, though, he realized what might be wrong and leaned forward. “I’m not expecting you to stay through this one, too,” he reassured Jack quickly, hating the thought that Jack might feel he was trying to pressure him. Maybe he should have talked to him about the decision before he’d made it, but Mac’s life had taught him that asking people questions like “Can I stay?” or “How would you feel if I stayed?” hardly ever gave you the answer you wanted to hear. “Once your tour is up, you should feel free to head back to Texas. I’ll be fine.”

Jack looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “That’s—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat before trying again. “That’s really not what I’m worried about right now.”

“Oh.” Mac settled back, not sure what to do with that. “I don’t know what’s so surprising about it, then. I just had them do the same thing with the paperwork you did, which it turns out is not _entirely_ legal but is close enough no one’s going to call them on it. I had to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t sue them for emotional distress if the time overseas got to be too much for me, but other than that I think they were pleased. We can handle more complicated jobs than most teams, and they weren’t looking forward to breaking up the partnership.”

Jack just stared at him like he still couldn’t believe any of this was happening. There was some emotion flickering underneath that, something stronger, but no matter how hard he tried Mac couldn’t get a read on what it was. Finally, he leaned forward. “ _I_ didn’t pressure you into this, did I?” he asked, his voice so suddenly uncertain that Mac wasn’t at all prepared for it. “I said I’d stay, so you decided you had to do the same thing?”

“Of course not,” Mac said instantly, and this time it was his turn to look at Jack like he’d lost his mind. “If anything, I’m _less_ likely to follow your lead than most of the people on base.”

“Then _why_?” Jack kept his voice low, but he sounded almost desperate now. “Why stay in this hellhole any longer than you have to?”

Mac’s brow lowered, almost offended that Jack could ask the question. “You did the same thing.”

Jack waved it away. “That was different. You’ve got your entire damn life ahead of you. There’s no way in hell someone as smart as you should be spending it here.”

The truth was, Mac knew he didn’t want to spend his entire career in the army. Dismantling bombs was good, important work, but the idea of spending decades trapped in the military chain of command wasn’t something he looked forward to. He was already getting bored enough to start randomly inventing things, little gizmos that their bunkmates looked at with amusement (partly because of Jack’s influence, he was sure) but would undoubtedly get him into trouble at some point.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t fit in at M.I.T. either. Or at his high school, or with his father, or pretty much anywhere else he’d tried to cobble together a life for himself. He knew Bozer would always be willing to wedge open a spot for Mac wherever he was, no matter how anyone else felt about it, and for that Mac would always love him like a brother. But even that was different than having someplace you actually _belonged_.

In all the world, the only place Mac had ever really felt like he fit was right next to Jack Dalton. He’d lose that eventually – even if Jack was willing, they could only keep the hopscotch act up for so long – but he wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could.

Since he couldn’t actually say any of that, though, Mac just gave Jack a stubborn look. “Maybe I didn’t like the idea of you being assigned a bomb tech who’d actually listen when you told them to ‘save themselves.’”

Emotion rippled across Jack’s face, like he was genuinely touched but trying to hide it. Finally, he sat back. “That’s how it works, huh?” he asked, voice rough. “You watch my back, I watch yours?”

Mac’s throat tightened, remembering saying those words to Jack as they knelt over that bomb. “Is that the sound of you actually listening to me, for once?”

Jack grinned, the sight of it easing something in Mac’s chest. “Maybe.” He reached over, stealing a piece of lettuce off of Mac’s plate, and popping it in his mouth before chewing thoughtfully. “Not bad,” he said finally. “Tastes better on a burger, though.”

Mac laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who haven't read it, here's my [meta](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com/post/173804789471/macgyver-2016-why-rebootjack-dalton-is-waaay) on Jack and his timeline.

They slept in the same set of bunks now, Mac on the top bunk and Jack on the lower one. They’d made the change soon after Jack had signed up for another tour, a move not a single other person in the tent had questioned. Even back then people had started seeing them as a unit, whether they were out in the field or not. If you were looking for one of them, all you had to do was find the other.

That night, Jack stared at the bottom of the bunk above his head and wondered why the hell no one had called him on it. Or, more importantly, why no one had pulled Mac aside and explained to him that he needed to make better friends than a broken-down ex-CIA burnout who was a hell of a lot better at killing things than he had to be. _Jack_ should have been the one to do it, damn it, should have been trying to get him more connected with the other guys instead of always leaving that little pocket of space around them so he wouldn’t have to share.

His chest ached at the thought, and he rubbed the heel of his hand against it as if that would be enough to make it stop. When he’d walked off the transport that would have taken him back to Texas, Jack had told himself he was only delaying the process. Yeah, it would be another year before he got to go home, but seeing Mac through the six or so months he’d had left on his tour had been the right thing to do. Kid needed someone willing to watch his back no matter how little sense whatever he wanted to do seemed to make. Helping a friend wasn’t such a bad way to close the door on this chapter of his life, especially when it was someone as genuinely good as Mac. Then he’d go back to Texas, hole up in his dad’s cabin for awhile, and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He’d told himself that staying wouldn’t _change_ anything. His life was what it was, and that wouldn’t be any different just because—

“Jack?”

The quiet sound of Mac’s voice from the bed above him jerked Jack out of his thoughts almost faster than gunfire. “Yeah?”

Instead of a response, he saw an arm reach down from the bed above him to hold something out. Jack took it, realizing it was one of those folded paperclip designs Mac was always doing.

It wasn’t until his fingers closed around it, though, that he realized this one was in the shape of Texas.

“I meant what I said before.” Mac’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, but it still sounded so damn solemn. “When your current tour is done, you don’t have to worry about me. You shouldn’t feel like you can’t go home just because I signed up for another tour.”

Jack closed his eyes, the ache in his chest sharpening to the point of pain. “I know, Mac.” His voice was rough. “Now go to sleep.”

“You’re not my CO.” Mac’s voice had lightened a little. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Mac could be _such_ an asshole sometimes. No wonder they got along so well. “You don’t listen to the CO, either.”

“True.” The word was half yawn, and Jack knew Mac was actually drifting off to sleep this time. “‘Night, Jack.”

Jack’s throat tightened. “Goodnight, Mac.”

When the breathing above him slowed down to the true rhythm of sleep, Jack held up the paperclip Texas and ran his fingers over the edges of the shape. When he’d stepped off that transport six months ago, Jack had told himself that Texas was still home. He might not have been there much in the last few decades, but even after his dad had died it had always been a talisman for him. Texas was where things were okay. Where they made sense. Where he could finally put himself back together enough to feel some peace in his heart. Even then, he’d told himself that when he’d said to Mac the day they met was still true – that nothing, even Mac, was going to keep him from going back to Texas.

Jack supposed it was a comfort to know he was just as good at lying as he’d ever been, even if it was only to himself.

Wrapping his fingers back around the paperclip Texas, he laid his fist against his chest as he stared up at Mac’s bunk again. When he’d left the CIA he’d been so damn angry, and 10 months in the desert had done absolutely nothing to change that fact. He wasn’t exactly sure when it started slipping away from him – he’d clung to it out of habit, even when it had melted down to nothing scarier than exasperation – but by the time Mac had grinned at him over the top of a deactivated bomb that _should_ have taken Jack out it was gone completely. He hadn’t felt this light in _years_ , like he could fly to the moon if he had to, and he knew it was because he spent almost all of his time right next to the biggest heart he’d ever had the privilege to know.

He’d thought he’d needed Texas to have any chance of finding peace again, but he hadn’t even needed to put himself back together. He’d just needed Mac.

Of course, that shouldn’t change anything, either. He was still a broken-down ex-CIA burnout, and Mac was still a genius who was _two decades younger_ than Jack and had his whole damn future ahead of him. People like him didn’t get to keep people like Mac, and he’d spent months lying to himself because even he had the good sense to know that.

But then Mac had _stayed_ , trapping himself in the sandbox for another year just so Jack would have someone he trusted to watch his back. And the only thing he seemed worried about was that Jack would feel trapped by that fact, when what he should have been worried about was Jack bursting into big, ugly tears right in front of everyone.

No, even that wasn’t quite true. What Mac _really_ should be worried about was that the part of Jack’s heart that used to dream of Texas was trying to figure out how the hell he could justify moving to L.A. Maybe he could say it was just a vacation at first, a U.S. tour that would suddenly and unaccountably dead-end in Mac’s hometown, and then say he enjoyed being in the city so much he’d decided not to leave. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like L.A. much – he hadn’t been there, but from everything he’d heard about the place it was as far from where he’d grown up as could be imagined – but it wouldn’t technically be a lie. He liked someone who was _in_ the city, and by extension would enjoy being in that city. Hell, he’d enjoy being damn near _anywhere_ if Mac was with him.  

It wouldn’t be like this, always within arms reach of each other, but it would be something. More than he deserved, really, but if Mac didn’t argue he wasn’t about to give anyone else a chance to.

When this was all over, Jack was still going to go home. It just… wouldn’t be to Texas.

On that thought, Jack was finally able to go to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

In the days and weeks since Mac had signed up for a second tour, Jack's life continued to follow the same familiar schedule: wake up, be with Mac, keep Mac from getting himself killed doing his crazy science things, keep the bad guys from killing Mac, be with Mac, then go to bed. The only real difference in each day's routine was where the bombs were, how crazy Mac's plan was to stop those bombs, and how many people Jack needed to kill so they wouldn't hurt Mac or random innocents.

Jack loved it. It was the happiest he'd been in a hell of a long time – possibly ever – and if he'd had any say in the matter he'd keep on doing exactly this right up until the moment he died (which, he had privately decided, would either be well before Mac or not more than five minutes after him. He'd do everything in his power to make sure it was the former, but having the backup option helped him sleep better at night.)

He knew, though, that he didn't get a say in this. Even though he’d already talked to the brass about letting him stay through the rest of Mac’s current tour, he couldn’t let Mac sign up for another one. At some point, he’d stop being able to talk his way into more extensions, and he’d get sent home before Mac did. Then it would be someone else’s job to watch Mac’s back, someone who didn’t know that the world’s slowest bomb tech was also the smartest guy they would ever meet. That he was almost always _right_ , no matter how crazy he sounded. Someone who wouldn’t know he had to follow when Mac ran off, and might not be there when Mac needed him.

So he accepted the fact that there was a clock ticking in his ear, every second of every day. He tried not to let himself think about it, reminded himself that he’d be heading out to L.A. when all of this was over, but a part of him was always aware that time was slipping away from him.

Which was why, when word came he had a call that needed to be taken privately, he found himself getting a little pissed off about it. He knew from the way the staff sergeant said the word “privately” that he really meant “had the right security clearance,” which even Jack technically didn’t have any more. Still, if it was about one of his old missions, the person on the other end of the phone wouldn’t blink about bending the rules. If he was lucky, they just needed intel. If he wasn’t, they’d try to get him called away to deal with whatever shitstorm had just cropped back up.

When it came to the CIA, he’d never been lucky.

Still, he didn’t think saying no was an option. Mac, watching him, seemed to realize the same thing. He gave Jack the nod that meant “go do what you have to do” and left to stand in parade rest just outside the tent. The staff sergeant glared at the spot where he was standing through the fabric, but since Mac had technically followed orders there was nothing he could do. He glared even harder when he had to go stand next to Mac, banished because of his own lack of security clearance.

It put a smile on Jack’s face as he picked up the phone. “Sergeant Jack Dalton speaking.”

“Jack, it’s Patty.” “Patty,” in this case, meant Patricia Thornton, one of the toughest CIA agents Jack had ever worked with. She wasn’t great with emotions – he didn’t think he’d ever seen her visibly upset, no matter how horrible the case was – but they’d always worked pretty well together. “You’re probably not going to like what I have to say, but I’m under orders and I’m asking you to listen all the way to the end.”

Jack closed his eyes, bracing himself. Damn it, he’d known this was coming. “Go ahead, then.”

There was a pause before she started, something about the words suggesting she’d planned them out in advance. “Normally, an EOD tech and his overwatch wouldn’t come to my attention, but you and Specialist MacGyver have pulled off enough impossible stunts over the last six months that people have been taking notice. It’s enough that my boss wants to recruit you two for the DXS, a science-based intelligence agency that—”

The words finally started to sink in. “Wait.” His eyes flew open, entire body snapping to attention. “This is a _job offer_?”

“Yes.” She sounded wary now. “I told you that you wouldn’t like it – I know when you left the CIA you swore you were done with covert work.”

What he’d actually said was that if they’d tried to drag him back, he’d make such a mess that they’d all get on the six o’clock news. Right then, however, there were more important things to worry about. “A job offer for me and Mac.”

“You’d work together on a team designed to tackle specialized situations around the world. The DXS are problem solvers – we stop imminent threats, particularly those with some kind of science component. Mac would provide the scientific knowledge, while you would provide the necessary field skills.”

Jack’s chest tightened. They’d keep _working together_. Mac would be off saving the world, just like he was meant to, and Jack would be there watching his back. Even the thought of getting to hold onto that was dizzying, but he couldn’t let Mac walk into hell just because he was being selfish. “How often does ‘stopping the imminent threat’ require assassination or government destabilization?”

“Never.” Patricia’s voice was firm. “There won’t even be long-term undercover work. I know you don’t have any reason to trust—”

Jack let out a breath. “If Mac’s in, I’m in.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Are you sure you don’t need time to think about this?” she asked finally. “I’ve only read the reports, but you seemed pretty determined not to come back into intelligence work.”

He had been, but that was before Mac had come into his life. If Patricia wasn’t right about what the DXS was, he’d need to be there to keep Mac from mortgaging off bits of his soul. Protecting him from that would be just as important as protecting him from guys with guns, and even though he was risking kicking up some of the darker parts of his personality it was well worth the sacrifice.

And if she was telling the truth… it was the closest thing to a happily-ever-after he could possibly imagine for himself. He’d get to keep _Mac_ , almost as close as he had him now. No devil could have waved a better temptation in front of him.

“Things change.” He kept his voice even, not ready to trust her with any of this. “If Mac agrees, then you’ve got both of us.”

There was another pause. “Well, then, I suppose you’d better put him on the phone.”

000

Just outside the tent, Mac was doing his best impression of the Buckingham Palace Guard. Part of the reason was because the staff sergeant was pacing back and forth in front of him, shooting him increasingly bitter glares with every pass, and ignoring him made him angrier without actually being insubordinate. He’d learned at least a little subtlety since basic training.

Mostly, though, it gave him time to brace himself for whatever Jack was going to say once he got off the phone. He knew Jack had worked for the CIA, even though he didn’t like to talk about it, and Mac assumed it was only a matter of time before they pulled him back in. Jack was talented enough that the CIA would realize how much they needed him, and fix whatever the problem had been that chased Jack away in the first place. Jack would feel guilty about leaving Mac alone, but he was too good at what he did to be content babysitting bomb techs forever. Even if the CIA didn’t talk him into leaving now, he’d disappear back into undercover work as soon as his current tour was done. Any chance Mac had of seeing Jack again would be gone.

He’d been stupid to even let himself start imagining it, vague plans about finishing up his degree somewhere in Texas. Dropping Jack an e-mail that made it seem like a coincidence he’d just happened to end up out there, maybe making plans to meet up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to ask for more than the occasional weekend – he wouldn’t want to intrude on Jack’s life – but the idea that he’d have _something_ had lit a tiny spark of hope in his chest.  

He should have known. The only person he’d ever been able to keep was Bozer, and that was mostly because Bozer had decided to keep _him_.

Still, Mac had learned how to keep everything he was feeling off his face a long time ago, which meant his expression was even by the time Jack poked his head outside. Jack’s own expression was deliberately blank, enough to send a stab of pain through Mac’s stomach as Jack focused on the staff sergeant. “Agent Thornton wants to talk to you,” he said, gesturing back into the tent with his thumb.

The staff sergeant’s face blossomed with vindictive satisfaction as he hurried inside. Once he was gone, Jack’s expression eased to the point that his lips curved upward a little. He met Mac’s eyes, murmuring, “Wait for it….”

A few seconds later, the staff sergeant slunk out of the tent. He shot Jack a glare that promised slow murder, then one to Mac that was seething with resentment, before hurrying away completely. Jack grinned at Mac. “Now that he’s out of the way, the person Thornton actually wanted to talk to was you.”

There was no response that could have surprised Mac more. “What? Why?”

Jack’s expression softened. “You’d better go see, huh?”

Completely confused now, Mac went inside and picked up the phone. “Specialist Angus MacGyver speaking.”

“Specialist MacGyver, my name is Patricia Thornton with the DXS. The head of our agency has received reports of yours and Jack’s performance in the field, and we’d be thrilled to have you both come work together on our team. We’re a science-based intelligence agency that….”

Everything else became white noise after that as the first part of what she’d said finally started to sink in. The DXS wanted them _both_ , and more importantly wanted them working _together_. Whatever crazy dangerous mission Jack went off to, Mac would be right there with him watching his back. He didn’t know how much free time you got as a spy, but whatever there was they’d already be in the same city. There wouldn’t be anything Jack couldn’t tell him, because they’d have the same clearance.

He’d never even thought about being an intelligence agent, but if the agency was science-based then he probably wouldn’t be too bad at it. They’d risk their lives every day, but they did that now. And when they saved people, it would be on a bigger scale than a bomb blast. And if these DXS people tried to abuse their power, he and Jack would figure out a way to stop them.

Most importantly, though, he’d get to keep _Jack_. If a genie had suddenly appeared and promised him his heart’s desire, this would be what he’d ask for.

There was only one question left. He met Jack’s eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance or doubt. Instead, Jack grinned again, giving him that little eyebrow flick he always did before they were about to jump into an insane, wildly dangerous situation together. The one that always made it seem like sneaking into an enemy camp to steal an entire truck full of potentially unstable IEDs was roughly similar to riding a really tall, really fast roller coaster.

Right then, it said better than words that Jack was in if Mac was.

He spoke the moment the thought had finished crossing his mind. “I’m in.” At the words, Jack’s grin turned even brighter than it had been before. “We’re both in.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Mac got the belated sense that he’d cut Thornton off mid-sentence. “Are you sure you don’t want more time to think it over?” she asked cautiously. “Intelligence work will be different than what you’re used to, and there are a lot of unique stressors attached to it. On top of that, you’ll have to complete agent training.”

“No problem.” He was good with tests, at least when his father wasn’t giving them, and if it meant he’d keep working with Jack he’d pass whatever tests he had to. “But I don’t need time. I’m in.”

There was another pause. “Okay, then.” This time, her voice was all brisk business. “I’ll fly out as soon as I can to meet with you both in person and discuss the details. I’ll also start the process for your honorable discharges, so be prepared to face a considerable amount of paperwork.”

He felt almost giddy. “I can do that.”

“I’m more worried about Jack’s ability to handle the paperwork, honestly.” He couldn’t tell if she was serious, but it didn’t really matter. He already knew all about Jack’s paperwork problem. “Welcome to the team, Specialist MacGyver.”

Mac grinned back at Jack, the future stretching out in front of him better than any happily-ever-after he'd ever imagined for himself. “The pleasure is all mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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